Back on the Farm
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Summary: A short vingette that takes place after the events of 'The God You Know'. Aprodite returns with Ares to his farm in order to learn how to live as a mortal. While watching her brother, she evaluated their lives and the events that brought them here.


**Back on the Farm**

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

"Well, at least I have the contract. How long can one mortal life last anyway? My reflection tells me I'm middle aged, so really only half a mortal life. Even better," Ares commented happily before bounding down the porch to begin hitching his horse and plow. He was a week behind the other farmers in the valley and now he had his sister to feed as well. Time might have waited for the god he had once been but not for the man he was now.

"Ares, that contract was written when you were a god. Without your power, you can't enforce it. Not to mention, if you reincarnate like mortals do, you won't remember it or anything else about this life," Aphrodite replied, sitting herself down on the small bench outside the hovel that was her home for the time being.

"Ah, that's the thing! When I wrote it I had already been mortal twice, both times thanks to Xena, so I put in a mortality clause tied not to my godhood but to Olympus itself. That way, if I die as a mortal, the contract still holds. Xena and I are guaranteed to meet at least once in each future life, and if our future selves ever marry, whammo, we'll remember everything about who we were and belong to each other for eternity! Grant it we'd forget again as soon as we both died and were reincarnated, but then that's what happens to mortal couples, so really no big loss. We'll just have to find each other the next time around. Genius, huh?" Ares preened, as he rechecked the new blade on his plow.

He pushed away the memory of Hephaestus comparing the blades of swords and plows which had inspired his current plans. He didn't even want to think of his disfigured brother in front of Dite, lest her grief return. She may no longer be a goddess, but she had always been able to read the direction of his thoughts, even without powers. He'd have to be careful not to pay too much attention to anything mechanical while she stayed with him.

While he'd die before admitting it, he knew Xena would never be his no matter what he did. Perhaps in another life he really would have that one in a billion shot, but not as Ares, and in as good health as he was he likely still had decades of loneliness ahead of him before he saw Celesta again. His heart was broken; he couldn't deal with his sister's pain as well. He hoped she'd meet some village women whom she could 'share' with. If her mortal happiness all depended on him, he didn't know how he would cope. He'd never kick her out, but he couldn't even fathom how he could give her a mortal life actually worth living. At least one of them should have a chance at that now that they were human.

"I guess, but it still seems so manipulative. Love shouldn't be like that," Aphrodite commented, trying to get comfortable. The wood of the bench had no give and she sighed with the thought that she might never know a comfortable seat again.

"Well it is. It always was, and you of all people should know that better than anyone," Ares replied while nudging his horse forward to test how the blade moved through the sod. As he watched it cut the dirt, he smiled broadly. Oh yes, if he kept the details of his new plow to himself he'd more than double his neighbors' harvests and his sister could live a mortal life of leisure until she found a destiny she liked better than being the widowed sister of a farmer.

"True. Hephie taught me what love could aspire to be, but that didn't mean all the grody stuff just disappeared," Aphrodite considered, her mood growing bittersweet with the memory of her dead love. Like Ares, she had lived thousands of years without love, but unlike her brother she could at least say she'd finally found the real deal, even if it only lasted for three decades. For that eye-blink of time, she had loved and been loved in a way few mortals or gods would ever know. That knowledge had kept her alive as her soul had drowned in Caligula's cruel madness. It gave her the strength to go on now. But the ex goddess of love also felt the deep longing for death and reincarnation that the former god of war did. It was the only thing they both knew would stop the pain of their loss.

"Look, I think I still have enough light to try one furrow out in the fields. I'll really get going tomorrow, but I'd like to see how it moves through sod first. We still have some of that cheese and travel toast Gabrielle picked up on the way back from Rome. In the morning, I'll teach you how to collect and make scrambled eggs and then we can go pick up Horace from the neighbor lady. Turn in whenever you feel like it," Ares instructed as he retracted the plow's blade before mounting his horse. He was eager to return to work. The good thing about farming was that it gave you little time to think about how much of a mess your life was and when you lay down to sleep, exhaustion kept dreaming to a minimum.

"Don't worry about me Ar, I'll be fine. Go do your farming thing. I'll see if I can tidy up some," Aphrodite offered, letting her brother off the hook. Watching him go, she felt her prior sadness return. This was his life now and in barely a year's time, he'd grown to accept it. She snorted bitterly at the Fates. How long had Ares done their bidding, pushing mortals to their destinies so that the three women were kept busy? And for all he'd been put through as a god, the moment he turned mortal they plopped him down on a smelly, ramshackle farm to pine away for a woman whose life thread was so tangled it was pretty much a Gordian knot unto itself. It wasn't fair, but then nothing had ever been fair for Ares. That her brother kept getting up, dusting himself off, and rushing in for another round had always seemed a miracle to Aphrodite.

She fervently wished the Warrior Babe could see that inner strength her brother possessed for the wondrous thing it truly was, but Xena was barely three decades old, not counting her 25 year nap in ice, and she had no conception of just how many, many rounds Ares had been forced to fight in order to survive and remain sane. Xena saw Ares persistence as a nuisance. She had the life she wanted and wished for him to move on and find one that worked for him, without her, but Aphrodite had the knowledge of millennia behind her and she knew that her brother never would.

Ares loved like his mother, and for Hera, Zeus was the only man she had ever wanted in her bed or had let into her heart. She'd taken other lovers to make her husband jealous or get something she needed to regain his attention, but the minute he'd sincerely given up his lechery and begged for her to return to him, she'd come back without a second thought. And for centuries prior, his return to her had been her most cherished dream. While Aphrodite had always hated Hera's homicidal obsessions and cruelty-inspired love affairs, Hephaestus' very existence had been the result of one of them, so on some level she had benefited from her stepmother's pain. Then again, her relationship with Hera had been complicated, and some of the things they'd done to one another downright depraved, but before the anger had consumed Hera, there had been love. As a child, Hera's faith in her had been the whole world to the little, motherless love goddess. Back then she had been too young and ignorant of the world to prevent Zeus from crushing his queen's spirit, but now she was far wiser and she would protect her brother from Xena's whims.

A part of Aphrodite had truly started to hate the Warrior Babe, but she knew how fruitless such hatred was. In many ways, Xena was the indomitable force that Zeus had once been. Anyone who acted on their hatred ended up dead or worse, so no matter how much the Warrior Princess might deserve her wrath, Aphrodite knew she had no cards to play beyond staying by Ares' side and never letting the brunette get too many moments alone with him. Getting between Xena and what she desired was a dangerous game, but she also knew that unless Eve or Gabrielle were in danger, Xena's code would prevent her from harming Aphrodite for merely butting in too often. She'd resent the intrusion, but she wouldn't harm the one family member Ares cared about out of frustration.

And Aphrodite knew Xena was frustrated. It wasn't the frustration of love unrequited, as her brother's was, but the frustration of indebtedness. Xena hated owing anyone anything, and Ares sacrifice on Olympus left her feeling permanently beholden to the former god of war. As a result, she came to Ares aid whenever his life was in danger, and while she protected him, Xena resented the obligation. If he moved on with his life, she believed he would be able to protect himself in whatever guise he built his new life upon. That only frustrated her more, as his refusal to give up on her love was indirectly keeping her bound to him.

Perhaps it was cruel, but Aphrodite relished the Warrior Babe's frustration with her brother. She shouldn't be allowed to walk off into the sunset with Bardikins unscathed. If she didn't want him, fine, but she could at least have found him a more dignified life to live if she was condemning him to live it without her. Ares had many skills as well. Farming was a waste of them. But Ares would never leave this farm, lest Xena come back for a visit and find him missing.

A chill dragged Aphrodite out of her contemplation and she noticed that she'd been so deep in thought that she missed most of the sunset and darkness was descending. She hated being mortal. You missed all the good stuff and could never escape the bad, like being cold. Picking herself up off the bench, she noticed her right thigh had fallen asleep and rolled her eyes as she stomped circulation back into it before going inside. How Xena could value this existence over the comfort of godhood, she would never understand, but who understood mortals anyway?


End file.
